lock it pop it drop it

OOC & Warning

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[I've spent a long time A) not writing, B) occasionally wishing to write and C) having nothing that I want to write. This is an endeavour to cut out all of these problems in one fell swoop. Whenever I feel in the mood to write, I'll point myself in the direction of this adventure. That being said, it means there's no guarantee schedule-wise for this.
This will be mainly text-based, but due to its format being directly inspired by NotailQuest, there will likely be occasional images.

Most of the notails in this adventure will likely go by any pronouns. If they do not, I will explicitly mention so in the narration.]

Warning:
Due to being centered around notail life, one needs to be cautioned about such matters as death of all kinds, dehumanisation, and other things such as that. Child mistreatment will likely also be part of it.

Reading about the notail section is recommended if you need to be certain of what else will come up.

Fortuna rolls a 7-sided dice. A 2 is rolled.
Fortuna rolls a 10-sided dice. A 5 is rolled.

This is it. The day you’ve been waiting for.

It was a time any notail child looked forward to, you knew, but it was more important to your village than any other. It was what someone could call your claim to fame - what you grew up learning, loving, training for above all else. You don’t know much about the world outside, but you know this:

You know that people will look at you, and the other children here, and if they know your village, they’ll know what you’re supposed to be the best at - like no one else.

That’s why you need to look presentable right now. Today will affect the rest of your life, like no other day has in your currently-short past.

What face are you wearing? What sign-off are you going to use?

And most importantly, just how excited are you?

your name is M-421 and your face is face is OWO (yes all capitalized, including the W) and you're going to EXPLODE in exactly 4 MINUTES

Name: G-427 (gary) (gary oak)
Sign-off: >8)
Excitement levels: You are LITERALLY GOING TO EXPLODE if things do not start happening TEN MINUTES AGO

ur face should be ᏊˊꈊˋᏊ and you are M-339!!!!

ur face should be ᏊˊꈊˋᏊ and you are M-339!!!!

^^

Gotta be a z class. You gotta be the capture creature rancher.

Ur wearing a bucket you found in the playground once with the face ":○" scribbled on it. It's good for intimidating others !

Also you are not at all excited, you dont want to get your bucket dirty with forest MUD

Gotta be a z class. You gotta be the capture creature rancher.

Ur wearing a bucket you found in the playground once with the face ":○" scribbled on it. It's good for intimidating others !

Also you are not at all excited, you dont want to get your bucket dirty with forest MUD

yes and yes

Your NAME is I-6107, you are wearing a PLAIN MASK. Your FACE is ⌐■͜■. Outwardly you are PLAYING IT COOL but inside you are FREAKING OUT.

Fortuna rolls two 7-sided dice. A 7 and 3 is rolled.

You are, of course, ready to explode. Maybe in 4 minutes. Maybe right now. You can’t tell if it’s from excitement or something else, but you do know one thing - you have to get going immediately, otherwise the M-classes will have to clean up little bits of you from all over your room.

They already have to handle enough without that.

You slide your palm across the surface of your plain wooden desk as you walk towards the set of drawers hunched at its bottom right. Its surface is scored with years of use before your inheritance of it; kids that have come and gone and probably become adults long prior to your conception in a batch, even. It’s amazing to think that eventually, you’ll be one more of this desk’s past owners.

Your claws hook into the black handle and you pull out the first drawer. You’ve been keeping this face secret for this day, vigilantly taking it out and polishing off the dust only when you’re alone. This is going to be the start of the rest of your life, after all. You wanted a fresh outlook for it, and you know you’re not alone. You wonder if you’ll even recognise any of your other village-mates at first glance, or if they’ll even recognise you at first. You’ll have to search a bit harder for your friends, if they’re even awake yet.

But enough of that. You have a laboratory to go to. You slide off your old face, checking with the mirror that your new one won’t be lopsided - that would completely ruin the point of making a good, fresh impression! - and hurry out the door.

Fortuna rolls a 20-sided dice. A 20 is rolled.

The V-class running the capture creature lab looks up from the eyegret chick she’s coaxing off of the counter as you enter. There’s technically supposed to be a line, but of course...

“Oh, it’s you. Early as always, huh? :]c"

You’re here before any other I-class. Heck, you’re here before any other notail period. (Sometimes there will be kids that are waiting an actual day early, sleeping in the dirt in their excitement, but you guess not your year.) This isn’t new, as the V-class suggested - you’ve always been a punctual person, the kind of child the M-classes like to point at for example when someone slinks over late. You’re also the kind of child that loves learning; there’s a reason the V-class recognises you. Every year, you’ve always come to this lab and watched line after line of classes file in, until you had to leave or until all the notails had gotten their creature, and then the metaparxis.

Except this time, it’s your turn.

“Yeah. You know how much I love capture creatures, I had to come today as quick as I could. Do you need any help with this group? @/w\@”

She gives the peeping bird a flick on the tail while it’s focused on you, snatching it up in her arms at its startled squawk. She moves it properly over to the rest of the M-class creatures the second she has it, with an expert efficacy you envy. You wish you could manhandle a capture creature as easily as that.

“Nah, I got it. :]c" The V-class looks you over as she says this, considering something. You know most V-classes don’t really care for most other notails, so you don’t expect her next actions at all.

She skirts past the gamboling tailmic in the way and crosses over to you, standing right in front of you. You have to tilt your head up to meet her measured gaze, staring at you from her tentider face.

“Listen,” The V-class says, laying a hand on your shoulder and escorting you further into the lab. She’s steering you further in than you’ve ever been - you were only ever at the front, watching her bring forward each class’ assorted animals. You can guess this is where the ones that are going to be moved later in the day are. “You’ve been visiting this place since you were barely out of your old village. You haven’t exactly been much help, since you’re tiny, but you’ve tried. I can tell you care about these capture creatures. :]c"

She finally guides you to the room she’s looking for, and flicks the light switch on. Your presences alone have been heralding the cries of the creatures inside, but the light illuminating them only serves to increase the cacophony. You can see gweches, tongues and tails both bright. You can see unicorns, the small ponicorns only of course, nickering and snorting - similar looking to each other, but still varied enough to catch the eye.

This is the I-class creature room.

“It might be breaking the order, but I figure you deserve first pick of everything that’s available more than anyone else. No one else is here, anyway - just you and me.” (That doesn’t sound right to you, because this is a big lab and you don’t think just one V-class could possibly take care of that many creatures, but you don’t interrupt her.) “Take a look around here, and some of the other rooms. Some things just won’t fit an I-class like you, but there’s plenty that will.

“Take a J-class creature. An M-class’, or something. There’s nothing stopping you. :]c"

Blessed gods, you are the luckiest I-class in the village. Or maybe just the charming-iest? It’s so exciting, either way! There’s so many options available, so many things to scan; you couldn’t stop yourself from scampering from room to room even if you wanted to, looking over all of the creatures.

A lot of them seem kind of intimidating, or just aren’t for you - you point at a mallon pen questioningly (the mallon pups inside scamper towards your hand and start jumping to try and reach it) and the V-class definitively shakes her head. You’re disappointed, but you let it go.

Eventually, you gather up a list of creatures you think would be a good starter for you.

>Buntercup

iminktiation or bust

> Iminktation or ponicorn seem like the surest bets! Or maybe the buntercup... it's just so sad...

>buntercup!!!

Iminktation!

>Buntercup!!!

>b u n t e r c u p

BUNTERCUP

Iminktation seems useful but the buntercup is sad and needs love...

Buntercup unless my vote for iminktation can break a tie or something like that

>Buntercup.

Get the Flaaeg and boil it in water for an extended period of time. This will be vital to you becoming a hardboiled detective

try to communicate with the buntercup. if it can still understand notail speech and/or seems amenable to your presence, give it a big, warm hug. you're home now, buddy.

Try to negotiate getting both the Shame Deer and the egg, on the grounds that you're choosing the two least useful pets of the bunch that probably won't be willingly picked anyway. Be sure to turn up the cute while you do this

“I think I’d like this one. @/w\@”

It takes you an agony of what feels like hours but you know can only be minutes before you make your decision.

The anomaly you indicated, the single buntercup, looks up at your words. You don’t know if it can understand what you actually said or if it’s just responding to the fact that you gestured towards it, though you suppose it could be either. It’s a uniquely blessed creature, so you’re pretty sure only Neo knows what it does in entirety.

“Really?” The V-class says, clearly doubtful about its ability to keep you alive in the Woods. (Not that you’re not slightly dubious too, considering its description, but…) “Are you sure? :]c"

At your firm nod, she shrugs, lets it go with nothing further than a toss of her head that you can tell is a visible variant of an eye-roll and a mutter. “I-classes. :]c"

And, well, you can’t really fault her for a reaction like that. Even you know that it’s probably not the best choice in creature, after all. But as the V-class touched on, it’s your genes at work; the I-class bleeding heart.

The same bleeding heart that is aching now, just watching the buntercup limp over to you. No, it’s more than just a limp - you’d call it a stagger, more than anything. It walks exactly like a freshly-wounded animal, dragging each step along the polished tile like a carcass’ dead weight. You’ve seen a few creatures around the village that have lost a limb; maybe the whole leg, maybe half of it, maybe a front one or a back one. All the quadrupeds adapt so easily, given time - they boldly rush around as quickly and lithely as their four-legged counterparts.

The buntercup is nothing like that. There’s clearly no wound that removed a front leg, because it’s placed directly in the center like a tricycle, and yet its every tread looks worse than you could have ever expected by watching it stand. It’s almost painful to watch it staggers to a stop beside you.

You place a hand on its head, and you feel no fur. It’s almost like skin, smooth and soft to the touch. You press down a little, and there’s no imprint on the surface of the buntercup, but the anomaly looks up with its single, perpetually-teary eye. You give it a pat, and it leans into the touch.

You know the other classes will probably be here soon to collect their creatures, and you don’t want to delay the V-class from that for too long by lingering here. Rather than make the buntercup follow behind you at its (what looks to be literally) agonisingly slow pace, you gather your arms under its belly and hoist it up in your arms.

Though it doesn’t fight you, and in fact seems perfectly content to stay there forever, you’ve clearly either underestimated its weight or overestimated your strength; it’s immediately obvious that cradling it in a hug like this will get you nowhere fast as you stagger so hard you fall onto your backside.

Your pride is more bruised than anything else, but the creature curling up in your lap does a little ways to soothe the sting. The V-class barking with laughter before you does not.

But maybe this little incident can turn out to be a good thing for you, after all.

You give the buntercup a half-hearted shove, watching as it responds by pressing itself against your chest further. Then you look up at the V-class. You’re hesitant when you speak, choosing your words with a careful picking-over, because you know she’s already done you a great favour simply by allowing you first choice of all the creatures - and you’re about to ask for more.

"Uh, I was wondering… Could I ask for a flaegg too? I know usually only one starter is allowed, and I should catch any other creatures I want. But, I mean. I don’t wanna trade this guy in, but it’s not exactly useful, right? And it’s not like flaeggs are that great either, right? And I’m not late or anything. I’m the earliest notail, even. So it’s not like I’ve earned myself nothing but leftover stuff. So… Maybe if I got these two, because they’re really bad, it’d be okay? And it’d balance it out a little? @/w\@”

The V-class stares at you for a long, long moment. You can’t tell if she’s considering your words, or if she’s just stunned at your audacity to dare and ask for more. Maybe she’s winding up to shout at you and chase you out of the lab. Maybe she’s going to take the buntercup away from you too, just for trying to get her to give you two starters. Maybe you just went way too far, you pushed the line more than toed it, and now she’s had enough -

Fortuna rolls a 20-sided dice. A 18 is rolled.

“Yeah, okay. :]c" She shrugs and laughs. Not only does she not mind, she agreed. You’d be surprised, but you’re not. Not very much, not really; in simply comes the rush of satisfaction that shows up alongside being able to convince someone else to give you what you want.

“You’re right that usually no one gets a flaegg, that’s for sure. Only the late-runners pick it, and for good reason - it’s definitely bottom of the barrel. Even T-classes aren’t usually so sure that they’re willing to bet on its ‘hatched’ form being good enough. At least everyone knows what they’ll get if they work on a seizing bird.

“How much is enough? What will make it come out of its shell? What will even be coming out of the shell? It’s too many variables. The smart T-classes, they don’t want to deal with those kind of uncertainties when there’s safer, less volatile investments to be had. And the G-classes, well… I’m sure some G-classes have raised it up to its full potential.

“But those guys don’t really have a choice. So yeah, basically no one picks them. You can have it. :]c"

“Really…? Thank you so much! @/w\@” You make to get up again, and she must be able to tell what you’re planning to do from your body language, because the V-class retreats a few steps from you.

“Okay, okay. No hugs. :]c" She raises her hands in front of her, like she’s soothing a wary animal. “You’re happy, I get it. Look, I have to go do my job - kids are definitely lining up at the door now. Hurry up and get your egg. :]c"

The words sound brusque, but you don’t take it to heart. That’s just how adults are sometimes, especially when a kid like you tries to go in for some physical affection.

It spooks a lot of them, for some reason.


-


You couldn’t really tell if there was a difference between each flaegg - they mostly looked the same, and they sure floated the same. Some were bigger, you guess, but that was it; none of them had any patterns or anything at all. Still, it seemed best to you to choose the largest one. If you were going to use it as a shield, you might as well use one that was going to cover you best, right? The V-class hadn’t really reacted, so you can only assume that this was probably the better choice of the crop - and that she wasn’t going to yell at you for taking such a fine garbage creature.

You sure are lucky that people usually seem to take a liking to you. You get the feeling no other kid would have managed to get any of the privileges you just did.

You don’t dilly-dally too long; for one thing, there’s no reason to, and for another even you can tell there’s only so much you can get away with. The V-class does have an entire village of other children to pair up with creatures, after all.

You give her a grateful little nod, your palm resting on the side of your new flaegg, and start making your way back to the front of the lab. The buntercup flags after you; it’s not as slow as you had initially expected watching it walk, which is a good thing, but it’s still scraping along the floor to walk, so you guess you still can’t expect too much from it. The V-class walks behind it, more patient than you would have thought she would be about it considering she does need to get back to her station.

Unsurprisingly, by the time both of you reach the outskirts of the building, there’s already a long line. You don’t need to glance at their shirts to know that this has to be the M-classes of your year.

The ones at the very front are quick to spot you and your new creatures, and even the ones who don’t know you by person can still see your own jacket in turn. It’s in no time at all that the mutters start up, rumours and stories being tossed around at such an unusual break in the usual order.

Fortuna rolls a 20-sided dice. A 8 is rolled.

While looking out at the sea (if the sea was a swathe of wave, and if you could somehow look at that wave from the side so that it was single-file) of bird-like faces that are peering back at you and your creature, you feel a ping catch your attention, familiar in the proud way it announces itself. It’s the call of confidence, the knowledge that comes with knowing one is basically the highest class, and the mental stance of someone who knows they’re going to grow up to get whatever they want.

You’re not surprised that he doesn’t step out of the queue, because no one wants to lose their place when it comes to getting their creature, but nor are you surprised that M-46171113 still wants to say something to you about your starter. (You have no doubt he’s already heard about what it - or rather, they - are.)

You also have no doubt that he is going to have something to say about it. As an M-class, he’s often seen following around the adults while everyone else is doing their own quests. Since you have a propensity for being near the adults as well whenever you can, the fact that you know each other is not remarkable.

The fact that he doesn’t like you isn’t, either.

Even though as far as anyone knows, he’s a normal M-class, every time he says something to you, you have to wonder again if the adults are sure they haven’t sorted him wrong. His temperament always brings to mind the subtype you hear is in the Woods instead; but what do you know. Maybe it is just you that brings out the best in him.

You don’t really want to approach him and hear his lilting quips. It’s not like he’s the boss of you, so you wouldn’t do it given the chance, but you know you’re going to have to inevitably pass him in the line if you want out of the lab. You could stay inside the lab too, but M-46171113 would still pass you eventually, so it would do nothing but delay the inevitable.

Ugh.

> Stride right the fuck past him with your head held high. You got here first, which means you are the greatest, and he's just a stinky loser baby idiot nerd. Show Him.